


Trevelyan's Altus

by RavenCall70



Series: Tales from Skyhold [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Attraction, Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, POV Trevelyan (Dragon Age), Pavelyan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 02:51:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12224238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenCall70/pseuds/RavenCall70
Summary: Nathaniel is star-struck when he meets Dorian in Redcliff and worries Dorian isn't interested





	Trevelyan's Altus

I still couldn't wrap my brain about how'd I'd gotten here. And I didn't mean Ferelden, I meant here, as in how did I come to be leading a ragtag bunch of defectors? Yes, I said defectors. For I lacked a better description of the people who had been following my lead since I'd sealed the Breach at the Temple.

Cassandra had left the Seeker Order, Cullen had left the Templars. Solas, an elven apostate had joined a bunch of people who feared magic and Varric, well... Varric had been brought here by Cassandra. But he'd been given leave to go and hadn't. Instead, he'd joined our ragtag organisation and started following me, along with every other person in our group who was a lot more qualified to lead than me.

I still didn't understand it. Less than two months ago I was leaving Ostwick under the disapproving and disappointed  eyes of my father. Bound for the Conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, a place where my father believed I would finally see things his way and do what was expected of me.

We'd both known that wouldn't happen and we both knew I would not be coming home. I had wondered then if my father believed I would really go to the Temple and a part of me hadn't wanted to. Yet I'd surprised myself and made my way across the Free Marches, crossing the Waking Sea into Ferelden.

Then there'd been the whole explosion thing and a nightmare I couldn't quite remember. Then there was the waking up in shackles with a weird pulsing green mark on my hand.

That had been three weeks ago. Since then, my life had gone in an entirely foreign direction. Out of nowhere I'd been made the defacto leader of highly skilled, experienced individuals all looking to me for direction.

To say I was overwhelmed would be a gross understatement , yet I found the role came naturally to me. I was in no way in agreement with their assertion I'd been sent by the Maker, but every time I'd had to make an important choice, I could easily discern which path to take. But I kept that bit of information to myself. If I didnt, it was guaranteed Cassandra would use it as validation and proof that I was being divinely guided. I didn't need that added to the burden I'd already been handed. Attempting to live up to some divine expectation on top of what I was already burdened with doing would be more than I could handle and then some.

Which brought me to now. Cassandra, Varric and Solas were traipsing behind me in the middle of the Hinterlands as we made our way to Redcliff. First Enchanter Fiona wanted to talk  alliance between the mages and  the Inquisition and it was my job to get it done.

As usual, things didn't go as planned and Fiona had no idea who we were. I sighed inwardly and though it was not ideal, I felt no surprise or panic over the strange turn of events. Even after the Tevinter Magister Alexius took his ailing son Felix away and I read the note he'd slipped me, I remained calm.

It wasn't until we stepped inside the Chantry to see a lone mage battling rift demons did my calm waver. It wasn't seeing the rift or even that there was a rift in a Chantry. It was the mage himself that had me feeling off-kilter, as though my world had tilted and it wouldn't right itself again until he talked to me.

He spoke as soon as I'd closed the rift and his voice rolled over me like silk and chocolate. It matched the delicious scent of vanilla and sweet red wine that wafted from him like perfume.

His eyes were captivating and filled with amusement, intelligence and a hint of something that made my knees feel weak. When he laughed, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the way his lip twitched, clearly pleased with my reaction to him.

He spoke quickly, as though he wished to ensure I had nothing to fear from him. When he told us he was a mage, he hurried to reassure me he wanted to help and was nothing like his countrymen.

I knew I was staring, even after Felix arrived to add to Dorian's assertion they were there to help. Even when I felt both Solas and Cassandra bristle at my willingness to believe their story, my eyes remained rivited to the beauty that was Dorian.

In the dim candlelight of the Chantry, it was hard to tell what his fitted armour was made of. Not that it mattered, but it was clearly custom-made since I'd never seen mage armour that left an entire shoulder bare. My eyes drifted to the exposed shoulder and my fingers itched to touch him. The smooth, dark skin looked to be as soft as silk and firm to my touch.

For a brief moment I imagined trailing my fingers along that delicious curve. Placing my lips to that spot and feeling his skin beneath my lips like that of the softest of rose petals.

How I managed to uphold my end of our conversation while fantasizing about him I couldn't say. When he made the comment about a fruit basket I laughed. I felt my cheeks flush when I did, hoping it hadn't sounded nervous.  
But neither Dorian nor my companions seemed to notice and I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, even as I dried my suddenly damp palms against my cloak.

Our meeting concluded and Dorian walked away, heading for some back door I couldn't see. As we stepped outside, several minutes passed before I could think past his handsome face enough to remember why we'd come to Redcliff to begin with.

\----xxx----

A week later after a trip to the Storm Coast, we were back in Haven and I was still thinking about Dorian. It wasn't until I'd handed my horse off to Harritt when I stopped dead, struck by an inexplicable panic.

Kaffas! Dorian had said he wanted to be here when we confronted Alexius but I hadn't bothered to ask him to return to Haven with us. But I had no way of contacting him either. Maker's breath!

I stood in the courtyard mentally kicking myself for being so distracted by him that it hadn't occurred to me to wonder how he would reach us. He hadn't given me any way of contacting him and I'd left him behind, surrounded by people who might do him harm.

The thought that he might come to harm chilled me and made my chest constrict with fear. What was I going to do? I couldn't return to Redcliff until I heard from Alexius and I had no way to reach Dorian. Bloody Maker's balls!

"Herald?"

I turned to see Leliana watching me, a curious expression on her  face. "Yes? What is it?"

"We need you in the War Room. We've received word from Alexius."

\----xxx----

I couldn't deny the overwhelming relief I felt when Dorian showed up in Haven just in time to accompany us back to Redcliff. I couldn't believe it but the joy I felt at seeing him again was undeniable.

After Alexius sent me through time, I couldn't stop thanking the Maker for bringing Dorian to me. When he said he was there to protect me, it took everything I had not to kiss him then and there. I could feel his confusion as he watched me with a puzzled look on his face, but I managed to avoid embarrassing myself even though the pull to kiss him grew stronger the longer he fought at my side.

After Redcliff, I had trouble not spending all my free time visiting with him after he'd announced he was sticking around to help. I had other companions and other responsibilities, yet none seemed as important as learning all I could about the handsome mage from Tevinter.

Despite all my attempts to make my interest in him known, he remained aloof and distant. I was close to conceding defeat when I came to his defence against Mother Giselle. Still, he refused to acknowledge my attraction until I threw my hands up in defeat and challenged him to respond in a way that wasn't flippant.

My heart pounded as he gripped me by the arms and pressed his soft, sweet lips to mine. I could taste remnants if the wine he'd drunk earlier mixed with a sweetness I imagined to be strawberries. His kiss became more demanding and he pressed his length against me, drawing a moan from my lips. I returned his eagerness with hunger of my own which left him gasping as he released me, my eyes still closed while I savoured the memory of his lips on mine.

"You realize this makes the rumours somewhat true." I said, finding my voice.

Unwilling to acknowledge the affect my kiss had had on him, he smiled mischieviously, calling over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Indeed. We might have to explore the full truth of them later. In private."

I watched him walk away, feigning indifference as he stopped to peruse the bookshelf before him. I sighed heavily, my thoughts a tangle of possibilities as I imagined exploring the rumours about myself and Dorian I had yet to hear.

Frustrated, I headed for the stairs to speak with Varric. If anyone knew anything about these rumours, he would. With a final glance back at Dorian's lithe figure, I took the stairs down,  whispering under my breath as I went.

 _"_ _Festis_ _bei_ _umo_ _caravarum_." * I said.

\-------  
* = You will be the death of me.  
  
  
  
  
  


 


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